


daydream

by Noa



Category: Homestuck
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Gen, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-05-22
Updated: 2014-05-22
Packaged: 2018-01-26 03:58:37
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,637
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1673858
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Noa/pseuds/Noa
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>“I just kind of, zapped in I guess.”</p><p>“You zapped in," Dave deadpans, and John shrugs.</p><p>“You wanted the short version.”</p>
            </blockquote>





	daydream

**Author's Note:**

> Dave and Rose are in the future alongside Dirk and Roxy, John and Jade are in the past with Jake and Jane.

He lands on the floor with an underwhelming thud and a muted yelp, but at least he didn’t crash through a table this time.

John gets up, brushes down his Godtier clothes, and takes a look around. He’s in what looks like a bedroom without the bed- a small, packed space with numerous posters taped to the walls and clutter strewn about. There’s a desk, mostly buried in CDs and magazines. A single monitor sticks out from the messy workspace displaying an aquarium screensaver, bubbles SFX and everything. John frowns, and wonders if he ended up in the 90s.

Continuing his examination, John steps up to a worn down reading chair in the corner of the room, and picks up one of the pillows resting on top. It felt like something straight out of his grandmother’s house, ornate fabric and neat embroidery on the cover, spelling out the words ‘Kick it Barack.’ in what looked like… comic sans?

OK, so maybe it _wasn’t_ something straight out of his grandmother’s house.

“Nice jammies.”

John nearly drops the pillow in surprise, and twirls around. Unlike the room he’s in, he recognizes the man by the door instantly. Dave.

Or is it?

He looks… different. Taller, for one, his shoulders straight and his hair a bit shorter. He wears a business suit, charcoal as far as John can tell, with absolutely _ruined_ sneakers on his feet. He runs a hand through his hair, and John spots two watches on his right wrist. He hesitates, and he puts the pillow down.

“…Dave?”

“In the flesh," Dave replies without even looking at him. He closes the door, saunters over to the spinning chair by the desk, and swipes off the bags covering it before taking a seat. It’s only then that he turns around to face John. “And you are?”

John dumbly points at himself, stunned that Dave doesn’t seem to know who he is. “John! You know who I am.”

Dave’s brows furrow for a moment as he stares, thoroughly inspecting him. John shifts on his feet, more than a little uncomfortable, and glances around the room instead of looking at Dave’s face. That’s when he notices the wall shelves, stacked with jars full of oddly colored fluids and unidentified parts of things that were probably once alive.

No doubt about it, this is definitely Dave.

So why was he so different?

“John… Egbert?” Dave’s voice snaps John out of his thoughts, and he looks up at the call of his name.

“Yes. That’s me," John huffs. “Honestly Dave, if this is another one of your prank attempts, I’ll-”

Dave cuts him off by raising a single finger, and somehow, John immediately falls silent. Weird, Dave’s never been able to do that before. John watches quietly as Dave turns towards his desk, and rummages around. He makes a small, victorious sound, then swirls back around to hand John a picture.

“What’s this?” John asks, but Dave doesn’t answer, instead waiting for John to look at it with crossed arms and an unreadable poker face.

When John does look at it, his jaw nearly drops to the floor.

It was a picture of him? Rather, an older incarnation of him. Way older. The picture had a formal feel to it, like a portrait, sepia toned. Older John’s smile was barely visible behind a full mustache. The annotation on the back of the picture read J. Egbert, and an illegible date. John flipped it back over to stare some more, and narrowed his eyes. Is this what he was going to look like in a few decades time?

“I never really got over that lush facial hair either," Dave says, and John looks back up to find him grinning. “Suits you though.”

“Shut up," John mumbles. He hands the picture back when Dave reaches for it. “So I’m old in this universe?”

“You’re dead in this universe," John feels a chill run down his spine at the simplicity with which Dave stated that. You’d think after all his encounters with death, mentions of his own wouldn’t shake him anymore. John looks at Dave’s hands as they put the picture away.

“Oh.”

“Never knew you. Got a good 400 years separating us," Dave explains. Initially, John nods, trying to keep up, but then he seems to think for a moment and his expression turns confused.

“Wait, if you never knew me, how did you find that picture?” John asks. “And how did you recognize me while I’m not, well, old?”

“So what brings you to my office today John," Dave continues, ignoring John completely, and John frowns. This is his office? It looks more like the bedroom of a teenager. A very messy teenager. Dave seems to notice the pensive look on John’s face, and quickly adds to his question. “The short version, please.”

John shoots Dave an offended glare, but answers anyway.

“I just kind of, zapped in I guess.”

“You zapped in," Dave deadpans, and John shrugs.

“You wanted the short version.”

“Right.” Dave tilts his head. “C’mere for a sec.” He extends a hand towards John, and John tentatively steps within his reach.

Dave touches his shoulder (when did his hands get bigger?), and pulls John down. He stares at his face. John swallows.

“Uh, Dave?” he asks softly, but Dave gives a little shake of his head that John can only interpret as ‘shut up’, so he does.

He smells like pine and citrus. Dave’s close enough that John can see his eyes behind his shades, and that’s a rare sight for any Dave John’s known. John worries at his lip as Dave inspects him, checking him out like he’s looking for something, and John can’t help but feel uncomfortable under his sharp gaze.

“You look just like him," Dave says after a moment, and he lets go of John’s shoulder with a sigh John would’ve missed if he hadn’t been watching Dave’s lips.

“Huh? Like who?” he asks. Dave waves him off.

“Forget it,” he says, and he uncovers a keyboard from the pile of miscellaneous shit scattered about his desk. 

John slips his hands inside his pockets, and stares at his yellow shoes.

“So this zapping thing," Dave starts, and John’s face snaps up. “Does that mean you’re gonna zap out again any minute now or.”

“I don’t know," John admits. “I haven’t really figured out how to control it yet.” That’s assuming he _can_ control it to begin with, and he hasn’t really figured that out yet either. It’s been a wild ride, but John doesn’t regret sticking his hand through that weird thing. It’d be easier if he had a way of predicting the side effects, but it’s not that bad. Well, aside from that one time when he almost fucked up an alpha timeline. That was kind of bad.

“So…” John clears his throat. He doesn’t like how it keeps falling silent between them. “What do you do here?”

Dave doesn’t look away from his screen, fingers working over keys without as much as a single pause.

“I make stuff," he answers.

“What kinda stuff?”

“Just stuff.”

John lets out a frustrated sigh. He’s trying to make conversation, to learn more about the universe he zapped to, but Dave seems so indifferent it’s like he doesn’t even care. This is his best friend, why can’t they just talk? Maybe Dave could show him around, or something. John peeks at the blinds covering the single window. It seemed sunny out. It’s been a while since he zapped somewhere with a (normal) sun. He sighs again, deep and overdramatic, and Dave’s shoulders sag. The clicking sounds coming from the keyboard stop.

“Movies," Dave then says. He spins his chair back around, and reluctantly faces John. “I make movies.”

John’s eyes light up.

“Ooh, like Vines? I love watching those compilations. Did you know my dad made one once? Man it was great. I should make one, but I’m worried I’ll zap out halfway through or something. That’d probably be really cool to watch, though. Hmm.”

“Nah.” Dave gives John his most unreadable expression yet, and hands him a DVD box. “More like this.” He adds.

John inspects the cover of the DVD with great interest, eyes widening when he realizes what he’s holding. This isn’t a collection of homemade clips, this is an actual movie. He quickly flips the box, only to read a long list of cooperating actors on the back (good actors!), and John’s jaw drops a little.

“Don’t tell anyone you’ve seen that. It’s not supposed to be out until Christmas," Dave says. “It’s still showing right now. Cinema owners all over the country would shit a dick if this leaked.”

“Dude," John says slowly, and when he glances up at Dave, Dave’s grinning.

“Expecting a nomination or three at the Grammys this year, if we’re to believe rumors," he says, and he reaches up to loosen his tie. For the first time since John zapped in, Dave seems relaxed. It puts John at ease to know Dave’s still got that glow about him when he talks about things he loves. Some things just don’t change, no matter the time or space. Speaking of time.

“How old are you?” John asks, handing the DVD back. Dave takes it, and frowns.

“You don’t just ask a lady for his age John, didn’t your father teach you any manners?”

“I know you’re older, I can see that.” John narrows his eyes as he studies Dave’s face. “So how old are you? Thirty-something?”

“I’m twenty-eight thank you very much,” Dave huffs. He crosses his arms, and raises an eyebrow when John snorts. His voice is a bit softer when he returns the question. “You?”

“I just turned eighteen,” John answers, puffing his chest out a bit. He thinks puberty’s treated him decently, but his shoulders were still kind of narrow (he was a bit short too, but being able to float made that a lot easier to accept).

“Cool," Dave says, a slight grin returning to his lips, and John feels his cheeks flare up when he sees Dave’s gaze travelling down.

John isn’t sure what he prefers: Dave acting like he doesn’t give a shit, or Dave checking him out like he’s appraising goods. John makes use of the opportunity to look at Dave too, and, well, that was a bad idea.

The years have been _very_ kind to him. Sure, he isn’t that old yet, but if anyone deserves an award that reads ‘congratulations on your puberty’, it’s Dave. His lanky figure balanced out into a lean, athletic build, and his facial features sharpened into something mature and strong. He wears a slight scruff now instead of sideburns, and it really brings out his chiseled face. The handful of freckles dusted across his skin have paled in color- Most of them are hidden behind his large shades, but John finds a few on the bridge of Dave’s nose, and right below his temples. His fingers twitch as he resists the urge to touch them.

“Take a picture, it’ll last longer," Dave says teasingly, and John’s flush burns hotter.

“Shut up, you were looking too.” That probably wasn’t the best comeback. He tries again. “Besides, you’re super different from my Dave!”

“Your Dave," Dave repeats, and there’s that eyebrow raise again, and John thinks that Dave really needs to stop doing that because it makes his stomach do weird things. He averts his eyes, and returns to staring at his shoes. Damn, those sure are yellow.

“Yes,” John says quietly. “You know, the one in my timeline. My best friend.”

John hasn’t seen ‘his’ Dave in a while. The brief rendezvous they had got rudely interrupted by shenanigans he still hasn’t fully wrapped his head around, and being a fugitive didn’t really make for a flexible schedule to arrange meet-ups with. He’s seen him during his sporadic space-hopping, but that never lasted long enough to have a conversation. He didn’t even get to bro hug him yet, and somehow the thought of that made John’s heart ache.

“So we’re bros then," Dave says, and there’s that disinterested tone in his voice again that makes John nervous. “Cool.”

John nods, expecting Dave to turn around and continue typing, but he doesn’t. Dave just sits there, quiet, staring at John like he’s waiting for something to happen. John’s not sure why, but Dave’s presence alone makes him hyper aware of everything around him. He feels like he could choke on his breath any moment now.

“Can I help you?” John eventually asks, and Dave’s poker face breaks into a chuckle.

“Nah. Just wonderin’ when you’re gonna evaporate.”

At that, John crosses his arms. “Why? Do you want me to leave?”

Dave rolls his eyes. “Yeah I can’t stand the sight of you, you’re interfering with my creative energies.”

“Haha, very funny,” John chides. Dave’s initial grin fades, and John feels like those shaded eyes are looking right through him. “Are you okay?” he asks, uncertain if he’s even going to get an answer.

“What? Yeah," Dave replies. He runs a hand through his hair. “Just thinking.”

“Thinking about what?”

“Are you ever going to stop asking questions John.”

“Not if you keep being so vague all the time!”

Dave sighs. He gets up and slides out of his suit jacket, leaving it crumpled on his chair.

“Dave?” John’s momentarily worried that he might have said something wrong, but then Dave’s arms wrap around him and he’s pulled into a tight hug. His glasses get pushed up against Dave’s shoulder, and John blinks at the ceiling, hesitantly bringing his hands up to rest on Dave’s back.

“Do me a favor would you,” Dave murmurs. “Don’t zap out now.”

John isn’t sure what to say. Dave’s body is warm against his, and John feels like he’s floating from the touch of his skin alone. His Dave never made him feel this weird, this… fluttery. His fingers draw careful lines down the fabric of Dave’s dress shirt. He feels Dave’s breath wash over his neck, and he closes his eyes. This was nice.

A single spark shocks through John’s hand. He holds it up, and looks at it over Dave’s shoulder to see the edges of his fingers blur.

“Dave-” he says softly, but it’s like Dave already knows.

“I jinxed it didn’t I," he whispers, and John isn’t sure why his grip on Dave tightens, but it does and it feels right.

“I’m sorry," he says, and he really is sorry. Maybe if he holds Dave close enough, he’ll zap along with him. He can’t keep that up forever, though, and John has no clue when this spontaneous teleportation thing is going to let up.

“Come see me sometime,” Dave says, and part of John wants to tell Dave he’s never been able to travel to the same place twice, but another part doesn’t, so he lies to his best friend for the first time in his life, and he nods.

“Yeah.”

Dave places his hands on John’s shoulders, and pushes him out of their embrace. He looks down at John’s face, and just as John opens his mouth to say goodbye, Dave leans in and brushes their lips together.

His vision blurs.

*

Dave sits alone in his office, chin resting on his palm as he stares at his screensaver with a bored look on his face. On his desk is a notebook, full of doodles of a boy with glasses, illegible scribbles in the margins.

His phone rings. Dave looks at the screen before answering, and sighs.

Rose was never going to believe the guy he’s been dreaming of for twenty-eight years just appeared out of nowhere, and disappeared just as fast.

He could hardly believe it himself.

_fin_

 

 


End file.
